


Detroit by Night

by Ceramicat



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Language, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I have my own headcanon on how vampires work bear with me, I have no idea how the police works, Investigations, It's vampires instead of androids, Mystery, Police, Revolution, Some other characters are vampires too, Vampire Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Vampire Violence, Vampires, at some point the plot might deviate... lol get it?, or what I'm doing in general, rated mature for Hank's dirty mouth and some violence, some vampire the masquerade terminology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:21:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23095525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceramicat/pseuds/Ceramicat
Summary: 2038. Ten years prior the information about the existence of vampires leaked to the general public and the world changed forever. The Night Council, their primary body of government, signed an accord with some of the most influential human nations, and night-dwellers became recognized citizens of the world. But tension is still high between the two races.In addition, the number of uncharacteristically savage attacks led by vampires towards humans is growing, straining the already fragile peace.
Comments: 21
Kudos: 47





	1. Bloodhound

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I've been lurking here for some time and finally I decided to post something.  
> English is not my native language so if you see any errors or something doesn't sound right let me know. It's greatly appreciated!  
> Hope you enjoy, I'll be posting next chapter soon ;)
> 
> (Oh and also message me if you want me to tag something, no judgement)

Connor approached the entrance of the bar with a little less confidence than the previous four he visited. If he didn’t find his future partner he was going to give up and return to the station to report the man’s misdemeanor to Captain Fowler. He really hoped it didn’t come to that.

A small sign on the door read ‘No dogs allowed’ and just above that another one, the crude drawing of a stick figure with cartoonishly big fangs and a cape covered by a red cross: ‘No bloodsuckers’.

 _Charming,_ he thought bitterly, and pushed the door open.

Inside, his senses were attacked by the pungent smell of old alcohol and human sweat, the stickiness of the floor under his polished shoes and a chorus of heartbeats, some of which accelerated slightly at the sight of his unmistakably red eyes. He was unwelcome here, he better make it quick.

He honed in on the only human that didn’t turn around to watch him enter and made his way, painfully aware of the stares that the other patrons were drilling into his back. From the description he’d been given, the man could very well be the one he was looking for.

“Lieutenant Hank Anderson?” he asked, his voice calm and polite, leaning slightly over the counter to look the man in the face. The other didn’t answer, continuing to look at his almost empty glass. Connor could smell the amount of alcohol in his bloodstream. This wasn’t a good sign.

“Good evening Lieutenant,” he insisted “my name is Connor, I’m the detective sent by the Night Council. I am to be your new partner.”

“I know who you are.” his voice was gruff and not at all friendly, “How’d you find me?”

“This was the fifth bar I checked.”

Anderson snorted, not really a laugh and took a swig of his beverage.

“We’ve been assigned a case by the DPD early this evening, a homicide. I was thinking maybe we could head there now-”

“Jesus Christ, why don’t you leave me alone? I told the captain I don’t need a partner, specially not a fucking dead man walking!”

Connor straightened, taken aback by the aggressive reaction. He was told Lieutenant Anderson could have some… reservations to working with him but he didn’t expect such animosity. This was going to be more difficult than he anticipated.

“Alright,” he tried in a conciliatory tone, “Why don’t I buy you another one for the road? It’s on me. Bartender, another one of the same please?”

Anderson huffed another of his half laughs, eyeing the money the vampire just slid on the counter, he sounded almost surprised. “Ya hear that Jim? And they say chivalry is _dead!_ Make it a double.”

While Jimmy complied and the Lieutenant knocked back his whole drink Connor hoped he made the right decision in enabling this man’s bad habit. His mission was of the utmost importance. After the first few cases of vampires going feral, he was tasked by the Night Council to work with the human police, a collaboration as a peace offering. He was basically obliged to be friendly with his colleagues. Some resistance was expected but this Hank Anderson was not merely distrustful, he was almost antagonistic. Connor just hoped the man didn’t get in the way of his investigation.

Anderson sighed heavily “Did you say homicide?”

-

The cold winter rain hit his equally cold skin as Connor stepped out on the mud in front of the dilapidated house, following the Lieutenant towards the crime scene.

“Oh! Fuck me!” Anderson flinched, catching a glimpse of Connor standing silently behind his shoulder, “I told you to stay in the car.”

Connor made a mental note to move more noisily in the future, to avoid scaring the humans.

“I’m sorry I startled you Lieutenant, my orders are to assist in cases involving ferals.”

“You didn’t startle me…” mumbled the man, “Alright, but you don’t talk, you don’t touch anything and you don’t stand in my way. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Hank! Glad to see you, we were starting to worry you wouldn’t show up.” A voice interrupted their conversation as a chubby white haired officer approached to greet them. He had a mustache and a tablet in his hands.

“Yeah that was the plan, if it wasn’t for this undead prick.”

The officer looked at Connor. “Oh. You must be…”

“Connor, pleased to meet you officer…”

“Collins. Well uh-” his right hand twitched, as if he was unsure if to go for a handshake but in the end, he decided against it. After a moment of awkward silence he continued. “Well, if you please, follow me.”

If he thought Jimmy’s Bar was bad, he had vastly underestimated how his sense of smell was going to be mistreated that night. Carlos Ortiz’s house was permeated by the stench of rotting flesh but besides that, the overpowering smell of blood made his stomach churn with hunger. He swallowed and adjusted his tie nervously, hoping the humans were too preoccupied with the crime scene to notice the unnatural dilating of his pupils. He wouldn’t lose control. He was well fed and well trained.

Connor absentmindedly swatted at a fat fly buzzing near his face, half listening to Collins’ report, while he approached the victim, the aforementioned Carlos Ortiz. The body was sprawled, half leaning on the chipped wall of the dirty living room. Large gashes raked his bloated abdomen: claw marks, clear sign of a vampire attack, a very angry one at that. Those wounds were where most of the blood that spattered the floor, walls and even the ceiling came from. He leaned in closer, crouching to look at the man’s face and neck. The throat was torn: a messy feeding. The attacker was clearly furious and possibly hungry, or went feral at the sight of the blood.

The blood.

Now that he was closer he could smell something different in the gore. There, mingling with Ortiz’s blood, a minuscule difference of color and viscosity only evident to his supernatural eyesight. Without hesitation he caught a droplet on his fingertip and placed it on his tongue.

“Woah what the hell!” this time it was Connor’s turn to flinch, “Connor! You are not here to eat the evidence! That’s disgusting.”

He shot the Lieutenant a glare, “I’m not _eating_ Lieutenant, I’m analyzing the evidence. This is vitae, vampire blood.” he explained, “The assailant was injured, probably during the fight.”

Anderson seemed intrigued. “Alright, go on.”

“Judging by the aftertaste of gunpowder, he was shot. Ah…” The vampire cocked his head, spotting something under an upturned armchair. He gingerly retrieved the object, using his pocket square as to not rub out the fingerprints. It was a sawn-off shotgun. He quickly passed the gun to one of the forensic officers.

“There are no signs of the shot on the walls in front of him so it must have been point blank. Very painful but not necessarily fatal for a vampire.”

Anderson crossed his arms, looking pensive. Surprisingly, his usual air of hostility was gone for the moment.

 _Perhaps,_ Connor thought, _the Lieutenant takes his job more seriously than I originally believed._

“Did you check the perimeter? Doors and windows?”

“We did.” Collins replied, he looked moderately amazed at his deductions. “No signs of forced entry. Both the front and the back door were locked from the inside.”

Anderson huffed. “They knew each other.”

“Yes,” Connor confirmed “but they didn’t like each other.” He stood up, scanning the floor, slowly following the path of microscopic vitae droplets, with Anderson and Collins on his heels.

“He’s like a bloodhound.” He heard the mustachioed officer whisper to Anderson behind his back. The Lieutenant didn’t reply.

“So, Ortiz let the vampire into his home. He was already expecting trouble, hence he kept the shotgun at hand. Did he have any criminal record?”

“Five years, for drug trafficking.” Collins replied, looking at his tablet.

“They had an argument and it started to heat up. The victim got the gun out and fired, probably at the same time that the vampire lunged at him. He tore Ortiz apart and fed from the little blood that remained.” Connor opened a door towards the back of the house. It led to a small bathroom. “But it must not have been enough to heal such a big wound.”

The trail disappeared behind the curtain of a dirty shower at the corner of the room. His muscles tensed as his hand inched on towards the plastic sheet, ready to react to a possible attack.

He tugged it aside.

The stall was empty.

But something didn’t sit right. The trail ended there. He took in the wall of the shower, its crusty tiles. Something was wrong in the pattern of the tiles, some of them were… misaligned. He stuck his nails in the small fissure and pulled.

He heard the two officers drawing their guns behind him. The whole back wall of the shower had come off, revealing a large secret space, occupied by a chest freezer and a half open duffel bag that looked like it contained wads of cash. Connor approached the freezer, it looked like it used to be locked with a heavy padlock that now laid broken on the floor. Being careful not to be in the trajectory of the other officers’ guns he swung open the top.

“Well… looks like Ortiz was a blood smuggler.”

Inside, curled up in a fetal position, sat a young dark skinned man. He looked like he was sleeping if it wasn’t for the thin layer of frost that coated his entire body. He was nestled in a multitude of torn open bags of frozen blood.

“Jesus Christ! Is he dead?” The Lieutenant’s voice came from behind his shoulder.

“Unlikely. He probably sought refuge from the sun but got frozen solid during the day. These freezers are really powerful. We’ll just have to bring him to the precinct and thaw him for the interrogation.”

Anderson looked shaken as he lowered his gun. “Fucking vampires…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going for a really emotionally repressed Connor so he's still kinda robotic at the beginning but don't worry, friendship wins all. There are some things I still haven't decided so I might add some tags later. For now it's going to relatively follow the plot of the game.  
> Let me know what you think, if you have some theories or questions. Comments are greatly appreciated!


	2. Warm and Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can have a little fluff, as a treat

The car ride towards the station had been awkwardly silent and Connor was taking advantage of the time to review the clues he had discovered. Something didn’t add up. The vampire’s reaction had been extreme, even if he had been starving, an outburst like that could only have been explained in a situation of severe panic. That was the problem with ferals. They were highly unstable and you couldn’t predict what made them snap. Could it be a virus? A contagious disease maybe? Could he be in danger of going feral himself?

“So… that was uh… efficient.” Anderson remarked, interrupting his train of thought.

Connor raised an eyebrow, watching the man’s expression from the corner of his eye. “Are you saying you were impressed?” he teased.

“Hah! Hardly. I’m jus saying, that was really quick.”

“Well, being apex predators and nocturnal creatures, vampires have naturally keen senses.”

He observed as the Lieutenant’s mouth twisted in an expression that he only could read as something akin to disgust. He belatedly realized he said something wrong. The man was evidently uneasy in the presence of his species, maybe reminding him of their predatory nature had not been the best approach. He chastised himself for being so inconsiderate and scrambled to find another subject of conversation.

“So, did I pass the test?”

“What test?”

“Your test. You let me lead the investigation and I saw you closely scrutinizing my process since the beginning. Even though you told me not to interfere in your work.” Connor smirked. “Did I pass?”

Anderson scoffed, cracking a little smile despite himself. “I get a vampire _and_ a smart-ass as a partner! Looks like I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He paused. “You get a B -.”

“B -?!” Connor exclaimed with mock incredulity.

“Yeah. For coming to bother me at the bar.”

-

“He’s not talking.” said Lieutenant Anderson defeatedly, exiting the interrogation room.

Connor looked at the vampire from behind the one-way mirror. Despite his still sluggish movements due to having been frozen for so long, a pair handcuffs had been fastened to his wrists and chained to the table. He looked confused, almost traumatized and had been silent since he’d been able to move.

“I could try to question him. After what happened, he might be distrustful of humans.” He proposed.

“What? have you seen the other guy?! He looked like a giftwrap on christmas morning! He’s not the victim here.” Chimed in Detective Reed, who had been mumbling curses and slurs under his breath the whole time. The man clearly despised night-dwellers and it was obvious Connor’s presence got on his nerves.

“I’m not saying that.” Connor replied, curtly.

“Let me in there, I’ll rough him up real good.”

“Vampires don’t feel much pain and you’ll just put yourself in danger. Also, ferals tend to lash out violently if subjected to stress.”

Anderson interrupted, ignoring Reed’s glare. “Ok Connor, you try. What do we have to lose?”

“Your name is Hendrick right?”

The young man stayed silent, his gaze vacant. He looked like a nightmare. The previously frozen blood that covered his arms and face was starting to dry out and his grimy shirt had a massive hole on the chest where he had been shot. The wound already healed.

“What was your relationship with Carlos Ortiz?”

Still no response. He heard an offensive comment from behind the glass. No doubt Reed hadn’t realized how good a vampire’s hearing could be. Or maybe he had and was determined to get on his nerves. Connor didn’t let it get to him, his whole purpose was to uncover the cause of these feral attacks. He wouldn’t let down his sire nor the Night Council, he just had to find the right approach.

“You should know our law.” He said matter-of-factly, “After an outburst like that, they are going to destroy you.”

Finally, a reaction. The suspect’s eyes locked on his face and he could see the muscles tense under his skin.

“The Council doesn’t tolerate this kind of loss of control but this is clearly an unusual situation. If you tell me what happened, I could protect you.”

He saw his fingers twitch. The claws, still partially elongated and caked in gore, scraped against the table. He pinned this detail in his memory: Ferals kept some animalistic features even in a non combat situation. Yet again, these were stressful circumstances for the suspect.

He pushed harder. “Tell me why you killed him or they’re going to take you away, stake you and leave you to the sun! Final death for you, you hear me?!”

“N-no!” The young man snapped, covering his face with bloodied hands. “I don’t know… I don’t know why I killed him.”

“What happened? You two knew each other?”

“Barely. He sold blood cheap, tasted terrible but I… was low on money.”

“So did you try to steal from him?”

“No! I went there to buy. But he told me he raised the price and… and…” Thick bloody tears started to pour from the young man’s eyes, drawing two red lines on his already dirty cheeks.

“So you murdered him.”

“I don’t know what happened! I was just… I didn’t want to hunt humans, I know the new laws! I was desperate… I was _so angry…_ ” His voice was high pitched and he was breathing hard even though he didn’t need the oxygen.

“Alright, calm down. What did you do before going to his house?” Hendrick didn’t answer, he was eyeing the mirror and his claws were rasping on the table, leaving deep grooves and growing longer by the second.

Connor adopted a nonthreatening position, like he was dealing with a wild animal, he backed away and tucked in his arms, leaving the young man some space.

“Ok that’s enough for now.” he stated, his voice low and even, almost reassuring. “It’s going to be alright. We'll continue this tomorrow.”

The suspect seemed to slowly calm down again, resuming to stare vacantly at his clawed hands that laid on the table like two big upturned spiders. Connor cautiously stood up and approached the mirror.

“I’m done here.”

He was just stepping aside from the door to let the other agents enter when he heard a whining of bent metal and a loud snap.

“You can’t- you can’t take me to the Council!”

Connor stepped aside just in time to dodge a swipe of the suspect’s claws as Detective Reed and Officer Miller dashed in to tackle him to the floor.

“You don’t wanna do this Hendrick!”

He rushed in to the policemen’s aid but a kick to the chest caught him off guard, making him stumble backwards. He saw, like in slow-motion, the young man elbowing Officer Miller and grabbing his gun, putting it under his chin and fire.

Once.

Twice.

Three times before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the ground, motionless. The room fell silent as the vampire’s body withered and flaked like a thousand year old corpse, his face locked in a rictus grin as his lips slowly peeled from his fangs. After a few seconds, all that was left was a pile of bones and desiccated skin.

“Oh gross.” Reed exclaimed. “Good job leech! Now who’s gonna clean this shit up?!”

Anderson was looking aghast at the brittle remains that had been the suspect. “Holy shit.” He muttered. “Hey, where are you going?”

Connor slipped out of the room, trying to process what had just transpired. This was definitely a setback. He should have just read the suspect’s mind from the beginning. No point in being polite with a murderer. He had the power, he had been trained for it. He shouldn’t have made excuses. He shouldn’t have felt…

“Hey!”

Connor adjusted his posture, clasping his hands behind his back as Anderson joined him in the corridor.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Sorry Lieutenant, it’s almost dawn and I must head back to the Council to make a report.”

“Oh… right.”

He noticed how the man was looking at him, still keeping a safe distance but he seemed almost confused, like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

“You should rest too. My condition prevents me from working during the day and it will unfortunately affect your schedule as well.”

Anderson grimaced.

“I’ll see you here tomorrow at sundown.” And without waiting for a response, he left.

-

The zen garden was peaceful as always, a gentle breeze making the tree branches sway. The moon was full and playful fireflies lit up the bushes, creating drawings in the air with their light trails.

He found Amanda on the small island in the center of the lake, she was trimming white night-blooming flowers hanging from the trellises. He crossed the white bridge to meet her, three enormous red carps lazily following his footsteps from below the water surface. Connor wished his own mind could be this idyllic.

“Hello Amanda.”

“Connor, my childe. It’s good to see you. How do you think the investigation is going so far?” She was perfectly composed, a light smile coloring her seemingly unperturbed expression but he could feel she was gauging his reaction very closely.

“I made some interesting discoveries. Ferals seem to be set off in situations of stress and get overcome by anger. I was hoping to further corroborate my theories but…”

“You lost the suspect.”

“Yes.” Connor stopped himself before he started fidgeting and hid once again his hands behind his back.

“Nevermind. I’m sure you’ll show more foresight in the future. And what do you think of Hank Anderson?”

“He seems… troubled. He clearly has a problem with our species, as do some of the other officers at the station, but apart from his personal issues, it looks like he knows how to do his job.”

“You would do better not to let him interfere with your mission. You were created for this, Connor, I expect you to succeed. Our reputation as a species depends on you.” She gently cupped his face into her hand, her skin was ice cold against his cheek.

“I won’t disappoint you Amanda.”

Connor opened his eyes. He was still in the backseat of the self-driving taxi he took to get back to the Tower, his conversation with Amanda having taken mere seconds in her mindscape. He brushed his cheek with the tips of his fingers. Her touch had been _so cold._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course Amanda was going to be Connor's overbearing sire :')  
> I wanted to finish the third chapter before posting this but I've been a little busy and I didn't want to make you wait too long.  
> After this chapter the plot is going to start deviating from the game! (But there are still going to be some similar scenes). 
> 
> As always, comments are greatly appreciated!


	3. Glow in the Dark

The next evening Hank had not quite managed to drink away from his brain the image of that _boy_ eating three bullets and then shriveling up like a prune. He had seen some shit in his line of work but he was never gonna get used to that kind of paranormal stuff. Although he guessed, now it was just normal every day stuff.

He stepped into the bullpen, fashionably late, with a splitting headache and there he was, looking as out of place as ever, sitting at his desk, waiting for him like a lost puppy. A very dangerous undead puppy.

“Good evening Lieutenant.”

He forced himself to stop that line of thought. That thing was a monster, no matter how human it looked. He had learned that the hard way.

“Hank! In my office, now!” Fowler barked from his glass perch.

_Here we go..._

“And you too Connor, I guess.”

Hank plopped down on the chair in front of the Captain’s desk while Connor stood politely at a distance. Fowler seemed grateful for that. Nobody wanted a vampire too close in their personal space.

“Ok, first of all, you’re late. I’m already doing enough overtime without having to wait you to get your ass to work.”

Hank made a noncommittal gesture, which Fowler decided to graciously ignore.

“Second of all, this is getting serious, Hank. I’m getting more and more reports of suspicious and violent vampire activities. Not only that. There’s also been a couple of cases of human assaults towards night-dwellers…”

As the Captain raved on, his eyes wandered towards the animated wall to his right, where report notifications and the whole DPD activity was updated in real time and neatly organized in moving diagrams. There was even a little row of muted screens from the main news channels. He could see a photo of himself there, talking to Ben in front of Ortiz’s house. Connor was there too, looking stiff as ever. ‘Detroit Police and Night-dweller community working together to free the city from a wave of violent crimes.’

 _Look at me mom, I’m on tv._ He thought, joylessly.

“…so I want you to get your shit together and start taking this seriously.”

“Why me?” He snapped. “Why do I gotta deal with this shit? I’m the least qualified cop in the country to handle this case!”

“I think you are perfectly qualified. The others are overworked and if this shit doesn’t get handled we’re gonna have a civil war on our hands!”

Hank glanced at the vampire in the room and leaned in towards Fowler, not making much of an effort to hide his contempt. “Jesus Christ Jeffrey,” he hissed, “why are you doing this to me.”

“Listen, I’ve just had about enough of your bitching. Either you make an effort and do your job or you hand in your badge. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Hank stormed off, stomping towards his desk, wanting nothing more than to knock over everything on his path.

“Do you have a dog Lieutenant?”

Hank looked up from his computer, eyeing the vampire suspiciously. “How do you know that?”

“I could smell it on your clothes.”

“You- wh- you _smelled_ me?!”

“No I just... couldn’t help but catch the scent.”

Hank looked at him, dumbfounded. 

“I like dogs. What’s your dog’s name?”

“You like dogs? Like what? To eat?”

“No.” Connor’s expression soured for a moment, but then he added, tentatively “I mean, I never met a dog… I think. But I’d like to.”

Ok, weird. Where was this kid coming from anyway? By the looks of him it seemed like they just took him out of a plastic wrap and placed him on the face of the earth. All clean and proper, with his fitted grey suit and tie. If he hadn’t seen him crack that case the night before, he would have thought the guy just spawned out of thin air, with no idea how to live in the world.

“Sumo. His name is Sumo. Now, would you shut the fuck up, I’m trying to ignore you.”

“You know, we would work better as partners if we got to know each other. It could be beneficial to our investigation.”

Hank’s sigh came out more like a growl. _Jesus Christ he’s relentless…_ After having his ear chewed off by Fowler, smalltalk with this bloodsucker was the last thing he wanted.

“Is there a particular reason why you hate vampires so much?”

The question came unexpected and it stung. It opened up old wounds and his response came trough gritted teeth.

“Apart from the fact that you drink people’s blood? Yeah.”

“You know we don’t. It’s against the law.”

He ignored him. As far as he was concerned, the conversation was over.

They worked in silence for a while. Well, Connor probably did. On his part, Hank was too busy trying not to think. Trying not to remember.

_Little footsteps along the corridor in the middle of the night._

He reviewed some of the most recent reports. Words and pictures swam on his computer screen, making no sense at all.

_A small shadow behind his bedroom door._

His hands were shaking.

_“Daddy?”_

“...Lieutenant? Lieutenant, there’s recently been numerous reports, all from the same area of the city. I think it’s worth checking it out.”

Hank snapped out of his daze feeling like a block of ice was lodged in his throat. He barely registered Connor slowly standing up from his chair, moving around their desks and placing a cold hand on his shoulder. Before he could even realize what he was doing he had him pinned to the tempered glass wall beside his desk, holding him up by his lapels and snarling at his face. “Don’t you fucking touch me! We are _not_ friends. We are _not_ partners. If it was for me I would have you all burned at the stake!” He let the words sink in. The leech was not even trying to defend himself, he just stayed there, with his stupid surprised expression on his stupid face, not exactly fear but something like apprehension in his maroon eyes.

“Lieutenant. Sorry to… disturb you.” Said Officer Miller, approaching sheepishly behind him.

Hank kept his stabbing glare on Connor but he let go of his jacket.

“There’s been another report. Suspicious night-dweller activity in the Urban Farms area.”

He sighed. “I’m on it.”

-

They found themselves in one of the many run-down neighborhoods in the Detroit suburbs: a maze of half abandoned apartment buildings, crowned by the cornfields and greenhouses of Urban Farms facilities. Hank stepped out of the elevator with little hope to find something of interest.

The old woman they spoke to — he had to kick Connor out of her apartment before she had a heart attack at the sight of his fangs — told them she had seen movement in the night. People she didn’t recognize coming and going from the building. Could easily have been hobos but she was absolutely sure she saw ‘spooky glowing eyes’ when one of them turned in her direction. He had to admit, it was pretty funny the way she wiggled her fingers while saying that last bit. Connor had seemed to take it seriously though.

“Tapetum lucidum,” He said. “It’s a reflective tissue in the eye that helps with night vision. Many nocturnal creatures possess it, vampires are no exception.”

“Connor!” He shone the flashlight in his face. _Jesus... they really do have spooky glowing eyes._

Connor focused his previously vacant stare. “Sorry Lieutenant, I was receiving instructions from my sire.”

“What, with your mind?”

“Yes.”

“You’re so weird... You plan on staying in that elevator?”

“No... I’m coming.” He quickly stepped out the doors, looking slightly embarrassed. Hank rolled his eyes and walked ahead.

Fuck, it was pitch black in there, just a sliver of light entered from the grimy window at the end of the hallway. With the exception of the woman they talked to, almost the whole building was abandoned, this particular floor was completely deserted but there were signs of life here and there. The abundance of graffiti that completely covered the walls for instance, and the bird feathers.

“Lieutenant, come look at this.” Connor was looking at a patch on the wall, no different than the rest. “This is fairly recent.”

The logo stood out among the mess of colors for being completely black, the paint was still a little glossy in the light of his torch. It depicted what looked like a stylized hand with its palm upturned, receiving a big drop of… something.

“Blood.”

“Yeah probably, since your kind is obsessed with it.”

“No I mean, there’s blood in the paint, vitae. Any night-dweller could spot this as different from the rest.”

The symbol was painted right beside one of the few doors that wasn’t boarded up. They exchanged a knowing look and Connor stepped in front of the door to knock.

No answer.

“Open up! Detroit Police!”

There was a ruckus from inside, a snap of wood and something hard hitting the floor.

“Stay behind me.” Ordered Hank, drawing his gun. Connor made way.

He kicked the door down, the old low quality wood splintering under his foot without much resistance. He quickly checked the rooms immediately to his right and left, trying to expose himself as little as possible to incoming attacks. All clear. Only one door remained at the end of the corridor. He barged in, gun pointed forward but was greeted only by silence and dust.

“Looks like they scrammed.”

Connor answered with a noncommittal “Mmmh.”

The apartment was as decrepit as its exterior, if not worse, it was hard to believe someone could live in here. In the corners of the room there were large mounds of fluff, something that, at a closer inspection, turned out to be dead pigeons in various states of decomposition.

 _Gross…_ He didn’t know much about vampires but if some had been here — and all evidence pointed to it, so far — he was pretty sure there was not a single drop of blood in those poor birds. He was about to ask Connor when he felt something small and hard under the sole of his shoe. A single bullet, shiny and brand new, rolled from under his foot.

Connor’s voice came from another room. “There are some crates here. Contraband again.”

He was half listening. A particular broken piece of wood was framed by the cone of light of his torch. His gut feeling told him it was out of place. It was a slim board, dirty, as was everything else but one end of it was cleaner, like it had broken recently. His mind went back to the noise they heard before, he had just assumed it was someone getting out trough the window but…

He pointed his light upwards, towards the caved in ceiling. Behind the latticework of broken wood there was anarrow gap, a dark hole where two small pinpoints of light leered at him from the shadow.

In that moment, it was like all warmth left his body. He took a breath to shout out but he was cut short when, in a flash of red hair, the vampire was upon him, pouncing on his chest with bared fangs and claws outstretched. He tried to reach for his gun but she pinned his arm to the floor. She was so strong. Her long braid of hair tickled his face as she opened her mouth, her teeth rearranging themselves in a deadly maw with a horrible squelch. He put out his free hand to keep her face at a distance, she could take a few fingers but if she reached his jugular he was done for. Hank was not averse to dying but not like this, _never like this._

Suddenly her weight was off of him, her nails leaving deep slashes trough his clothes and flesh where they had been a second before. He propped himself up with his elbow. Connor had come out of nowhere like a cannon ball, wrenched her off of him and now they were tussling on the opposite end of the small living room. He watched them, half dazed, with both horror and fascination. She was keeping low, slashing wildly, baring her sharp teeth and hissing, while Connor was dodging with precision, trying to get an opening, an expression of stern concentration on his face.

“Traitor!” She growled. “Council lapdog!”

Hank raised his gun. They were moving too fast. “Stop right there lady! You’re under arrest!” He shouted. She didn’t even acknowledge him.

Connor had managed to wrestle her to the floor, trying to grapple her in a submission hold but somehow she managed to squirm out of his grasp and roll away, right in his direction.

Oh, _now_ she noticed him.

Hank pulled the trigger, the bullet hit her square in the shoulder as she pounced towards him again. The sharp jolt of pain made his eyes water as she twisted his wrist hard, releasing the hold he had on the weapon. Before he knew it, that same pistol was pointed at his temple and she hoisted him up on his feet, holding his neck in a vice-like grip and using his body as a living shield. Her hand was not big but he could feel the tip of her claws on the soft flesh at the side of his throat. He tried to remain perfectly still, cursing himself for being so sloppy.

Connor too was getting on his feet, cautiously holding his hands up in surrender, his expression seemingly calm but he could see, by the furrow of his brow, that he was concerned. Or maybe he was just imagining it. After his outburst at the station he wouldn’t blame him for hating his guts. There were no witnesses, no backup on the way. He could let her kill him, it could easily look like an accident, an investigation gone horribly wrong. God, he really had to go and be an asshole that evening.

“You care about this blood bag? Stay back!” She pointed the gun at Connor. With her fangs extended, she talked with a slight lisp. Hank almost chuckled hysterically. The things you notice when you’re about to die…

“Alright, there’s no need for more violence.”

Oh? Was he actually trying to negotiate?

“I know you, you were on the news. Vampire detective… sounds like a B movie.”

Hank felt her backing up, dragging him along. He remembered seeing a window on the wall behind them. If she tried to jump, he hoped he had a split second to get away, if she didn’t decide to slash his throat first.

“I’m just trying to understand what is wrong with our people. There’s a sickness, we just want to know how to cure it.”

“The only sickness among our people is you! You ancient fucks are a cancer that needs to be cut out!”

Hank was confused. The woman was clearly enraged but she didn’t sound incoherent like the guy they caught the night before. Vampires against other vampires. It looked like they stumbled upon something more complicated than what he expected.

“This is a difficult time in our history and I know it can be frustrating, it can be hard adjusting to the new rules.” The guy was usually as expressive as a brick wall and now he was actually empathizing. Made him wonder how much of this was an act. Looked like it was working though, she was getting distracted and stopped backing away for a second.

“Why don’t you let Hank go and come with us? We can talk about this. The Council just wants to help you.”

 _Uh-oh… wrong choice of words._ He could feel her body shaking behind him, the rumble of a low growl vibrating against his back. Her hold on his throat tightened, drawing a single drop of blood that he felt slowly rolling under his collar. She grabbed his jacket, swinging him like he was nothing more than a rag doll and suddenly his body was half out the window. Hank let out a strangled cry and held on to her arm for dear life. It felt cold and steely in his sweaty grip.

“You just want to help yourselves.” She snarled, still pointing the gun at Connor. “But prove me wrong.”

And she let go.

He tried to keep his hold but she twisted her limb and pushed him backwards. All air left his lungs at the dizzying sensation of void. He might have been screaming. He didn’t know. All that mattered was the inescapable pull of gravity.

His fall was stopped abruptly and he let out a yelp, something sharp had pierced his ankle and was holding him aloft, suspended between the window and a horrible death. He twisted his body, trying to look up and saw Connor, hanging from the window, one taloned hand firmly gripping the windowsill and the other slicing the hell out of his leg.

“Ouch! Fuck!” He was gonna have a brand new collection of battle scars, all in a night’s work.

“I’m sorry Lieutenant. Try to stand still as I pull you up.”

He hoisted him back up trough the window. Now that the fear of turning into jam on the pavement below was gone, he felt damn embarrassed hanging upside down like a bat, being pulled up by the leg of his pants by his vampire police partner. He almost laughed at the absurdity. Maybe he was in shock.

As he got back inside the apartment he leaned on the nearest wall, his legs were shaking. “Shit! _Shit…_ She’s gone, isn’t she.”

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let her get away.” Again, that strange expression of confusion and concern. What was the kid beating himself up for? Saving his life?

“We know what she looks like, we’ll find her.” He started to walk towards the exit, still a little unsteady. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll call someone to come get the evidence.” _Fuck, I need a drink._ He stopped and turned around. Connor was still standing there, looking perturbed out the window, maybe hoping to still see the woman out there. “Connor…”

“Yes Lieutenant?”

“Nevermind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is!  
> Sorry for the wait, this one is super long. I might be slowing down a little from now on, the current situation is getting to me a little but I'll try not to let you all down.  
> Take care everyone, see you next chapter! :)
> 
> ...and I might have an original story set in the Detroit universe in mind, would anyone be interested in reading something like that?


	4. Blood Trail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I'm not dead! Real life is kicking my ass but I keep going. Hope you enjoy this new chapter!

Connor watched Lieutenant Anderson hobble his way out of the apartment, stepping lightly on his injured ankle. He peered down at his right hand, the tips of his claws were stained with blood. His eyes lingered on it for a brief second and then he quickly grabbed his blue pocket square and cleaned it up. He took a deep breath and began the process of putting his thoughts back in order, finding a calm bubble in his mind and slowly his nails reverted to a more innocuous appearance.

The gust of wind caught him off guard, tussling his hair and making him stumble forward, startled. Connor blinked, he was in the garden again.

The scenery was as beautiful as ever but the wind was a little more than a breeze and the fireflies hid in the bushes, depriving the garden of their golden light. A crystalline sound resonated in the distance, a discordant harmony that beckoned him in the dark. He followed it, mechanically fixing his tie.

“Hello Connor.” Amanda welcomed him, sitting on a white marble bench under the swishing foliage of a tree. She made a gesture for him to sit at her side, her expression was nothing but the picture of serenity.

Connor obliged.

“You seem distressed.” She wasn’t looking at him, her attention was on the glistening silver wind chimes that dangled from the branches of the tree. Nonetheless, he could feel the gentle pressure of her attention on himself, like chilling fingers. She already knew what happened.

“I’m fine.” He said and immediately regretted it. The words sounded forced and defensive leaving his lips. A wispy cloud dulled the vibrant glow of the full moon, for just a moment.

“You let her go.”

Connor fought the urge to flinch. Instead, he relaxed his face in a neutral expression and straightened his posture. “I surmised saving the lieutenant to be the higher priority. Going back to the station without him would have broken the already fragile trust his colleagues have in me and it would have hindered my investigation in the long run. Also, I am well aware of the diplomatic nature of my involvement with the police.”

Amanda finally turned to face him. “You have to be careful Connor. You will be asked again to make difficult decisions.” Her words sounded like a warning but then her voice softened. “I hope you’ll make the right ones.”

Connor stood up, sensing he was being dismissed but he hesitated and turned back to her. “That woman, she said that… the Council is a cancer.” something stuck out to him about that statement, it kept buzzing in his head like a fly hitting a windowpane, over and over, without going anywhere. He sensed he had a question on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t even know how to express it. This was such an alien concept for him. The Council made him, gave him life. He owed them his unconditional obedience, every lesser vampire did. But something in those ferals had broken, it made them not only violent but also rebellious, it wasn’t supposed to be that way. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Amanda raised her eyebrows, perhaps feeling his confusion in the entwining of their consciousness inside the shared mindscape. “You don’t need to concern yourself with that. Your mission is to catch them and bring them back to the Council so we can understand the problem and fix it.”

“Yes Amanda.”

“I’m looking forward to see some progress.”

-

“Alright, I’m outta here.” Said Anderson putting back his phone into his pocket.

“We shouldn’t leave the crime scene unattended.”

The Lieutenant swatted his words out of the air with a wave of his hand and slowly made for the elevator. Connor went after him but kept at a distance, remembering what happened early that evening.

“What if someone comes in and tampers with the evidence?”

“Nobody’s getting here except the police, in five minutes at most. And that woman is not coming back either if she’s smart. Me, I almost died, I’m pretty sure I earned the right to check out early.”

Connor followed in his footsteps. “You should at least go to the hospital. Those scratches are deep, they could get infected.” He could see deep red stains starting to bloom as the heavy winter clothes absorbed the blood on the man’s shoulder, arm and leg. Connor cringed, knowing one of those wounds was of his own making.

They reached the elevator and he stepped in behind. There was still work to be done here and leaving like that was absolutely against protocol, but he felt like, after all he went through for saving his life, he couldn’t let the human die of sepsis.

Anderson turned around to look at him, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Move.”

He quickly stepped aside, still weary not to get too close in the cramped space of the elevator, as Anderson pushed the button for the ground floor. They scowled at each other through the whole ride down but Connor was getting distracted, multiple times he had to wrench his eyes from the growing bloodstains on the Lieutenant’s clothes, swallowing a few times to try and wash away the sweet sirupy smell that coated the back of his mouth.

Finally the doors opened and the rush of stale air of the corridor came as a blessing. As they were exiting the building, one of ground floor apartment doors cracked open, letting in a sliver of light in the lobby.

“What happened? I heard gunshots.” an old, dry voice croaked out of the opening, accompanied by an equally old and dry face.

“Yes ma’am,” Anderson replied, making a poor job of covering his shoulder wound with his hand. “Everything is under control. Just stay inside, a few of my colleagues will be here shortly, they might want to take a statement.”

“You’re bleeding.” Connor detected some suspicion in her voice, as if she caught the Lieutenant in a lie.

“Ah, yes.” The man simpered, on the edge of exasperation. “It’s nothing, just stay inside ok?”

The woman didn’t reply, she was looking wide eyed at Connor, who had been waiting patiently behind his partner in the shadowy corridor, just outside the light’s reach. She pointed her crooked finger at him, stammering: “It’s… It’s a….”.

Anderson briefly turned around, giving him a tired reproachful look then addressed the woman again. “Don’t worry ma’am, this one’s tamed.”

The door slammed shut and they heard an impressively long series of deadbolts getting locked.

“Good job, Dracula.” Said Anderson, limping outside towards his car.

“I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?”

“Standing around all creepy like that.”

“I have no other way of ‘standing around’. You shouldn’t drive in your condition, Lieutenant.”

“It’s fine.”

“Let me at least call an ambulance.”

“Fuck no!”

“You’re losing blood, you could pass out and cause an accident.”

The man stopped abruptly in his tracks.

“At least let me drive?” Asked Connor, tentatively.

Anderson turned around, glaring daggers at him but surprisingly, after a long sigh, he reached into his pocket and tossed him the keys, which Connor snatched out of the air without effort. “Fine. If it’ll make you shut up.”

Connor immediately realized the ride was going to be a challenge. As soon as they got in, Anderson turned on the radio that instantly flooded the cabin with a blaring syncopated sound it took him a few seconds to realize he was listening to some kind of music. He couldn’t consider it bad — and he really had no means of comparison — but the sheer volume of it pounded on his sensitive eardrums almost like a physical force. Adding to that, like in the elevator, Connor found himself clearing his throat several times, gripping the steering wheel until the plastic groaned under his hands.

“Hey, careful with the car! You break it, you pay. Also, fucking hell slow down, it’s not like I’m dying here.”

“I’m sorry Lieutenant.” he brought the car to a more reasonable speed and decided to crack open the window. Fortunately, the gust of cold wintery air cleared his mind a bit. “Would you like to go over what we saw on the scene?” He asked, raising his voice enough to be heard over the music.

Mercifully, the Lieutenant turned down the volume.

“Shoot.” he said, begrudgingly, after another big sigh. The man sighed a lot, Connor noticed.

“I’m suspecting the apartment had been the scene of a smuggling operation for some time. There were a few crates of ammunition and a small cooler with half a dozen blood bags inside. The labels on the bags were hastily ripped off.”

“Shame. We could have known where they got those from.”

“That’s where we’re going.”

“Y- what?”

“I said _hastily_ ripped off.” Connor couldn’t help but crack a little smile of pride.

“I figured you’d be the one to enjoy working overtime.” Anderson grumbled in response.

As the Lieutenant sank back in his car seat a few rain drops hit the wind shield. It had been a serene night so far but a nasty wind had blown a cloud cover over the sky, turning it a sickly dark orange.

“Hey bloodsucker. Some people here are actually warm blooded, would you mind closing the damn window.”

“I’d rather keep it open, if you don’t mind. We’re almost there anyway.” He shot a glance at the human as he felt his eyes upon himself and saw he was observing him attentively. Connor was used to being under evaluation but he felt that this was different. When Amanda — or his handlers at the Tower — looked at him it was to appraise him, to judge his performance. Anderson, instead, looked at him like a particularly intricate crime scene.

Connor opened his mouth, hesitant to explain. He contemplated lying but he supposed Anderson wasn’t going to be so easily fooled. “It’s the blood. I’m sorry, I can’t help it.”

The man grimaced and inched away from him as far as the seatbelt would let him.

“You don’t have to worry, Lieutenant, I have been trained to withstand situations far more critical. In fact, my self control is much greater than the average vampire. This is just an involuntary physical reaction.” Connor purposefully kept his eyes on the road.

This part of the city was quiet. Not many other cars occupied the street at this time of night and the sidewalks were deserted.

“Can i ask you a personal question Lieutenant?”

“Can I stop you from asking?”

Connor paused, but he judged by the tone of the man’s voice he was being sarcastic and not outright forbidding him to ask. “Are you afraid of vampires?”

Anderson snorted and then winced, clutching harder at his shoulder wound as the car hit a bump in the road. “More like a ‘hating your guts’ kinda feeling.”

“I appreciate your candor.” He replied, quietly. The sudden accelerating of the human’s heartbeat was enough of an answer.

-

North slipped inside another abandoned flat as quickly and as quietly as she could. There was no sound of footsteps chasing after her but she didn’t let her guard down, she had no idea what the Hunter could do. She sprang from a broken window, landing softly on the roof of a lower building. Electricity was still coursing through her body from the recent fight, she couldn’t believe she made it; throwing the human out the window had been a gamble but it paid off. Her skin crawled when she remembered the hunter’s dead eyes as he parried all her panicked swings, and yet, he let her go to save the blood bag.

‘You were like him once.’ She could almost hear Markus’ preaching voice as if he was right beside her, leaping from shadow to shadow on the path towards Jericho. She had to warn them. They were already in the process of transferring all the stuff back to the freighter because of that old woman who saw them the other night, they couldn’t let the police - or worse, the Council - catch on to what they were doing.

She forced herself to slow her gait as she approached a more populated area, where a few stragglers still lingered in the cold city streets, all of them clearly with a heartbeat. It wasn’t so easy to bump into night-dwellers on accident, despite what some of the scaremongering news anchors liked to say on tv, they were a very small and far apart community. It was only the Council’s inner circle with a hundred lackeys, a few civilian lesser vampires scattered in little groups around the city and her small family at Jericho, which was slowly but steadily growing, mostly thanks to Markus.

North brushed a few rebel strands of copper hair from her face and stopped. She still felt on edge.

“Shit, girl! If you keep looking at me like that I might just fall in love.”

She had been mindlessly staring towards the entrance of a dingy pub, her gaze perhaps drawn by the warm halo of light that filtered trough the windows. A man was precariously standing, framed by the doorway, gently swaying on his feet. He was wearing a reinforced leather jacket, between his lips an unlit cigarettewas poking out of a scraggly grey streaked beard and he was holding an old fashioned lighter in his hand. She immediately noticed a row of five motorcycles, smooth and shiny like colorful insects, parked on the side of the door.

As he opened his mouth to speak again, a strong stench of alcohol wafted in her direction: “Why don’t you come out of the cold? I’ll introduce you to my friends, we’ll warm you up.” He slurred.

Her face started to twist in an expression of furious disgust but she suddenly realized why her body had brought her to this place, like a moth to the light. The raging void in her soul that called for violence and blood, the primal hunger that plagued her species had been awoken in the fight and it couldn’t be ignored.

She remembered Josh saying that in the old days, before the Leak, the existence of vampires was hidden in the eyes of humanity. Most humans could not notice the obvious predators walking in their midst and the few who could, didn’t live enough to share their knowledge. It was a tangible ability brought by humanity’s own disbelief and it made the hunt very easy. The elders called it the Shroud. After the Leak though, it was like a veil had been lifted from humanity’s eyes. The predators now were in plain sight… and the humans still decided to absorb them in their society, to tame them, to use them.

North squeezed out a tight lipped smile, burying down in all her rage and hunger, a subtle pang of guilt: Markus wouldn’t know about this. No Shroud was needed here, the man could barely stand on his own. He couldn’t see her ember eyes, the unnatural stillness of her chest, the dark red gore under her nails.

“I’d hate to share you with your friends,” she replied, her voice as sweet as honey on a fly trap, “why don’t you come out here instead?”

The biker smiled lopsidedly, not noticing the cigarette falling from his lips, “Alright.” he said, sheepishly, and marched towards his death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one ends my streak of using the word "upturned" in every single chapter hahaha! I hope you like where this is going, this is really where the new plot starts.  
> As always, feel free to leave a comment, even if it's to just point out some error and I always love to hear your opinion :)


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